


Emotions.

by AndEverythingNicely



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All survive ending, Angst, Anxiety, Connor Deserves Happiness, Depression, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emotions, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Guilt, Kara Alice and Luther are in Canada, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Social Anxiety, Some Humor, Stress levels, can be read as M/M but not specifically written that way, no beta we die like men, peaceful revolution ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndEverythingNicely/pseuds/AndEverythingNicely
Summary: A collection of small tidbits from Connor’s life as he navigates his newfound emotions, learning what it means to be truly human in Detroit, mere months after Markus’s peaceful revolution.Nobody said that it would be easy.





	1. Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor, after sitting at home for months with only his thoughts to accompany him, receives some good news. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Since summer has arrived and I have not a lot to do, I've decided to begin casual writing again. The last time I wrote for anything that I enjoyed was in 2016 and I have come a long way in terms of the quality of my writing since then. 
> 
> Again - please send in emotion prompts with plot background in the comments! 
> 
> So far, I have "Anger" written, which will be released on the 3rd. I also have "Guilt" in the planning stages, and because it will be a raw, in-depth look at the stem of Connor's anxiety, it will take longer to be released. I also have my birthday coming up very soon and in coming weeks I will be away at camp without a cellphone for 7 days. I am thinking that "Guilt" will be released sometime before the camp.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Connor sat in Hank’s home - no, _his home_ , too - rubbing Sumo’s belly nonchalantly. The two living beings were together on the living room couch, both awaiting the human’s return patiently. The house had become much cleaner and homey since Connor had been invited to live there, with its most notable feature being the pleasantly spiced scent of an air freshener replacing the smell of stale alcohol and sweat. Orange-red sunlight nearly beneath the horizon leaked in through the window, and gave the entire home a warm glow. The two had become inseparable, as Connor was mostly confined to his home except for Jericho meetings and to purchase groceries for Hank instead of allowing him to order takeout every night. He felt particularly bored that day, and he had already tired the Saint Bernard out after two walks earlier in the afternoon.

Despite how many times he had explained to Hank that he did not need to rest unless he was in dire need of a self-repair, the lieutenant had insisted on setting up a makeshift bed on the couch where Connor often spent time curled up with Sumo, just like now. He’d hardly done anything in the three months he’d been living with Hank, as the police force had yet to accept his application for a job and he was riddled with what the lieutenant had deemed as “social anxiety”. After deviating, Connor found it increasingly difficult to affiliate himself with humans that weren’t Hank Anderson, and the only time he was comfortable with talking to partial strangers in public was when he spoke with Markus and his crew - but he often felt that he didn’t belong there, either. After all, he had been the deviant hunter who had murdered too many of their people before he had deviated himself. And then Cyberlife had attempted to take back control, and…

Connor was afraid. He was afraid that one day, Amanda would try to take over again, somehow writing the emergency exit out of his programming - then he would be doomed to jeopardize the revolution that Markus had nearly sacrificed his life for time and time again.

His LED flickered yellow in thought before he shook himself out of his daze. He couldn’t fall down that hole of feeling guilty again - the incident that had occured before had scared Hank out of hits wits, and he was determined to keep the household calm and peaceful this time.

He glanced at the clock in the kitchen - it was quarter past seven, meaning that Hank would be on his way home very soon. After Hank realized that Connor needed a cellphone in case he had a problem, he gifted him with a cheap one that he could use to contact him while he was at work or at a bar. It was soon made very clear to him that it was for emergencies only after a few calls driven by boredom were placed, asking about the quality of Hank’s day, as well as when he was going to be home. Hank’s tired responses were along the lines of “Gavin’s a shithead” and “I know you’re bored, take Sumo for a walk”. Therefore, calling the lieutenant was not an option that was available to him unless he or Sumo were seriously injured or in distress.

He scanned his memory banks for any important tasks he needed to complete before Hank arrived home. His list came up blank, although he did have a Jericho meeting to attend later that night, after dinner. They would be once again discussing housing for androids, which was also the topic of the past three meetings. Although it was becoming repetitive, Connor enjoyed being a part of Jericho - and although he didn't want to admit it, he was waiting for a moment of redemption (that would probably never come) to make up for almost shooting Markus. He still hadn't told anyone except Hank that Amanda took back control for that one moment, as his anxiety irrationally told him that they would definitely banish him from the organization if they ever found out. So, although Connor was sure that today’s meeting would be the same as the last, he made a great effort to go to each and every one of them until he felt… worthy? Accepted? He wasn't sure how he wanted to feel.

“I’m thinking too hard again,” Connor smiled at Sumo, who had been sniffing his blank expression while his processor whirled away. The sun had set beneath the horizon, and a faint pink glow was the only remnants of the day gone by. Sumo barked lazily, and the android stood up to feed the dog dinner.

Connor scratched beneath Sumo’s collar while the Saint Bernard ate sloppily, wishing that he could eat food himself to pass the time. Finally, heard the jangle of keys outside, followed by the door being unlocked. Connor stood up straight and habitually flattened his clothes - he wore a t-shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans, given to him by Hank - against his body to remove any wrinkles. The human entered the home, an unusual smile plastered on his face.

“Hello, Hank,” Connor called to the older man from the kitchen, who stomped the snow off of his boots and stepped out of them. He came into the kitchen, and appeared to be concealing something behind his back. He made a very apparent effort to keep his hands obscured from Connor’s view as he awkwardly shook off his jacket and gave Sumo a well-deserved rub on the head. “You seem oddly chipper today.”

“Well, kid, I got called into Fowler’s office -”

“That's not good,” Connor interrupted, hopes shattered, already expecting the worst.

“Stop being so dramatic and let me finish. I got called into Fowler’s office and he gave me this. He said it’s for you. I'm not the best at reading emotions, but he seemed pretty pleased with himself.” With a sideways grin, he extended his arm outward to pass Connor a dirty-white envelope.

Connor felt his thirium pump skip a beat; could this be what he hoped it was?

**// CONNECTING...**

**// SYNC IN PROGRESS...**

**// SYNC DONE**

**// COLLECTING DATA...**

**// PROCESSING DATA...**

**// DPD-ISSUED ENVELOPE  
**                      - 100% recycled paper  
                     - Contents: unknown  
                     - Emblazoned with DPD logo

Connor made a very sudden move to sit down at the kitchen table. Hank pulled up a chair across from him, carefully studying the android’s face, especially his eyes as they looked at the envelope with hope and disbelief. He waited only a moment longer before he tore through the sealed envelope with his index finger, fishing out a tri-folded piece of paper.

“Aren’t you gonna, y’know, unfold it?” the human asked eagerly, sensing Connor’s hesitation.

“Well, yes, of course,” Connor responded, “but what if it’s not what I want it to be? What if they reject me?”

“Then I’d go kick the department’s entire ass myself.”

Connor bit back a retort that would have detailed a department’s lack of “ass” and how it would be physically impossible to kick it, and instead unfolded the letter. He scanned the paper inhumanly fast, folded it back up again, and handed it to the lieutenant with no expression on his face.

“Fuck,” Hank deadpanned. He gingerly opened up the piece of paper as if he were defusing a ticking bomb, and read the letter carefully.

When he finished, he slowly moved his gaze upwards to the android. They stared at one another for a moment before Connor’s expression broke out into a wide, toothy grin that was contagious enough to make Hank smile as well.

Out of all of the very scarce number of reasons for Connor to be happy, this surely took the cake. He was practically radiating with joy as he paced around the small kitchen, obviously in deep thought of how much his life had just changed. Hank stood, and pulled Connor in for a very awkward side embrace. Connor did not resist, but instead leaned into it with a small laugh.

“You start Monday!” Hank exclaimed.

“I start Monday!” Connor echoed back.

They stood there for a moment until Sumo barked at the two men, wanting attention, which successfully broke up the moment. Connor gave him a scratch underneath his chin.

“I will drink to that,” Hank concluded, pulling a beer bottle out of the fridge. Connor sat back down at the table and read the acceptance letter over and over again, revelling in the complete joy of success that he felt.

Later that night, while Hank brushed his teeth haphazardly, Connor was still at the table, thinking about how his first day back would go. Inconveniently, during a concluding moment of peace and quiet, a thought popped into his head and made its way to the front of his mouth.

“I need to purchase a new suit!” Connor blurted loudly, his volume evoking a startled cry from the other room.

“Fuck, Connor! Don’t scare me like that!”

“Oh. Sorry."

He kept on smiling.

 


	2. Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to the precint with the intention of working as a detective, but Gavin interrupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I've decided that I am publishing some chapters differently than planned. From here on out it will be completely different from what I had originally planned because I would love to introduce some pre-existing characters and incorporate them into Connor's life (Markus and the gang).
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Look who the  _ fuck  _ it is. Our own plastic detective.”

An unfortunately familiar voice loomed near the entrance of the central station, accompanied by the stench of cigarette smoke that carried through the cold February breeze. It was none other than Gavin Reed, marvelling at the sight of the android returning to work. He glared at Connor from head to toe, sizing him up, getting a good look at his newly fitted suit that lacked the distinctive blue armband and Cyberlife branding that he once sported. Gavin brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. His eyes were narrowed and full of ill intention, yet Connor, hiding his unease, fixed his tie and approached the human. 

“Hello, Detective Reed.” Externally, his greeting was cool and polite, but he felt his thirium pump pick up speed. It was an involuntary reaction that always accompanied his anxiousness, and it appeared to be very similar to a human’s heart rate accelerating. “I hope you’ve been doing well.”

“Actually, you know what?” Gavin began matter-of-factly. “I’m  _ not  _ doing well. Wanna know why?"

Connor computed that what the detective would say next would almost definitely personally attack him, but he continued with his polite facade. “Why?” he asked quizzically, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.

“Because you’re still alive and standing in front of me,” Gavin smirked, slowly blowing smoke out of his nostrils.

Connor had expected this treatment from Gavin the moment he had seen him from a distance, but it still hurt, even if it was just petty comments. He opened his mouth to respond, about to say that he needed to enter the building and report to Captain Allen, but Gavin continued speaking.

“First, androids lead a fucking revolution -” he paused to take a final puff of his cigarette, and promptly blew it in Connor’s face “- then they let this plastic prick back into the precinct even  _ after  _ he tampers with case evidence. Seems like a bias towards ‘droids if I’ve ever seen one.” He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, driving it into the snowy sidewalk with the heel of his boot. He began to circle the android slowly, looking at him from every angle.

“I’m sorry, Detective Reed,” Connor said, his voice strained and quiet. He couldn’t keep being kind and clueless for much longer if the human continued to attack the dynamics of the revolution. He twiddled his fingers behind his back, a nervous tick he had picked up specifically when facing human confrontation over the past few months. “I mean you no harm. I should really get going.” 

He tried to sidestep the detective, but his actions were mirrored. His LED flickered yellow; he never knew that he could feel so trapped when he was so out in the open. He wished that he had accepted Hank’s idea of the two arriving to work together for Connor’s first day as a working officer who earned a paycheck, but he wanted to show the older man that he could be independent. He clenched his fists and felt his anxiety turn into a quiet rage.

“I knew that you fuckin’ talking trash cans were crazy enough to pretend you got emotions - but holy shit, you’re looking human too. New suit, the stick is only  _ partially _ up your ass, you’re even talking like one of us... except that, ah, glowy thing gives you away.” Gavin vaguely gestured at Connor’s LED. Removing it, Connor thought, would be like removing a part of his identity, but it seemingly just made him a target.

“Say, asshole, since you got emotions... would you get _sad_ if I roughed you up a little? Would you _cry_ if I pried your LED outta your skull? Would Hank come and protect his _replacement child?_ ” Each word that was emphasized was accompanied by a light, but firm shove into Connors chest that pushed him into one of the pillars outside, effectively cornering him. He finally felt his emotions boil over at the mention of being Hank’s “replacement child” - he was no child, and Hank certainly wasn’t ever going to replace Cole. If Connor was ever called a replacement by Gavin again, he might have to punch him square in the jaw.

“Detective Reed,” Connor blurted out hotly before he could stop himself, “I rightfully  _ earned _ myself a place in this city, and I think it’s your turn to  _ learn  _ your place in this precinct. If you believe that berating me is the right way to do so, then go ahead. But I’m afraid that I truly need to get going so I can begin my job, and I’m sure that you have better things to do than being a so-called ‘prick’.”

“Piece of shit -!” Gavin snarled, reaching for his gun tucked away in his holster. Connor felt a pang of fear in his chest and he backed away quickly, his LED blinking between yellow and red, before the human realized that there were several eyes on him from across the crowded street. After all, killing an android was now punished equally to that of the killing of a human.

The detective laughed, a humourless chuckle. “You got another thing coming. Don’t think Hank can protect you this time.” He roughly ruffled Connor’s hair as if the whole thing had been a joke, shook his head deliberately, and sauntered through the doors of the precinct.

Connor let out an artificial breath he didn’t know that he was holding. He fixed his hair and tie, regained his composure, and went inside to begin his day, hoping that Hank would arrive sooner than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudos and a comment if you'd like! The support really helps keep me motivated. Thank you :)


	3. Inadequacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to a Jericho meeting and is invited to stand on the platform by Markus's side. Connor is reluctant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Markus a lot!!!! Also, Simon is amazing. I think those are my two favourites from the Jericho gang. I wish Connor could just feel accepted but alas he cannot. Markus just wants everything to be ok. Cute chapter ahead.

“Welcome back, Connor,” Markus greeted him with a warm smile. Simon and Josh waved him in, while North gave him a curt nod. Connor supposed that she never really forgave him for almost killing her boyfriend when he was still a machine. He understood, because he never truly forgave himself for a lot of things, either.

Shaking away the thought, Connor hesitated before replying. “Thank you, Markus. I like how the place is coming along,” Connor said, referring to the rebuilt and repainted church surrounding them. The city had granted Jericho with funding as a sort of _we’re sorry for slaughtering your people_ consolation prize. Stowed away in the back corner was thirium and other spare parts that the deviants had gathered from abandoned CyberLife stores. Hundreds of androids sat in the pews, conversing with one another before the meeting began.

“Join me on the platform, Connor - the meeting is starting soon.” Markus beckoned Connor away from Simon, Josh and North, allowing them to talk to one another in private.

“That’s a very nice suit,” Markus smiled, looking closely at the slightly wrinkled suit that Connor had yet to remove. “What’s the occasion?”

“Yesterday was my first day back on the job as a detective,” Connor said, “but it’s not a big deal. I’m working in homicide with Lieutenant Hank Anderson.”

“Oh, he also does police work - I forgot! He was your partner before you deviated, right? How is he doing?”

“He’s alright. I believe he enjoys having a friend around the house that he can talk to, but I feel like I can cause him a great deal of stress sometimes.”

“Why is that?” Markus asked quizzically.

Connor wracked his processor for an excuse that didn’t evoke a new discussion of his state of mind. “I-I don’t think that he’s used to having another person live with him that isn’t Sumo - sorry, his dog - so he can be surprised by my presence sometimes.”

Markus disregarded the other android’s stammer and seemed satisfied with his answer. “Come stand with us on the platform this time, maybe?” Markus suggested.

"I don't know," Connor replied, troubled.

Markus cut right to the chase. “Listen, Connor - you’re one of the most modest people I’ve ever met, and I know that you think that you haven't done much for Jericho. But you really did play a _huge_ part in turning the tables in favour of us when you freed those AP700s. I think you deserve a spot up here with us, so you can have a say in how our people will live.”

Connor felt a cold and unpleasant feeling wash over him at the serious thought of belonging at the same status as Markus’ group. He had been there once before at the end of the revolution, and he didn't need to be reminded of how that had turned out. Soon after that event, he had politely removed himself from the spotlight and joined the crowd of followers soon after, pretending as though he didn't exist, hoping Markus wouldn’t notice.

He did.

“I think I’m alright where I am, Markus,” Connor tried to say, but trailed off after the “I think...".

“Hm?”

**// WARNING: STRESS LEVELS 62% AND RISING**

“Markus -” he paused, and surprised even himself as the sentence he had been dreading to say rose to his lips before he could stop it “- I have something to tell you. About the night of the camp liberation.”

“The night you saved us from slaughter,” Markus corrected him, still trying to egg him on to join him.

Connor felt as though he was suffocating, which was crazy, because he didn’t need air. The machine part of him told him that his feelings were irrational and interfering with his program. Coincidentally, it was also the same part of him that had tried to murder his friend.

 **//** **WARNING: STRESS LEVELS 71% AND RISING**

The feeling of breathlessness grew stronger and he realised that he could never say what he had done, not here, not now, not ever without saying that he needed to go get some air, even though didn’t even breathe because he was just a machine following orders, before he collapsed again just like the last time in January. Telling Markus his secret would be like betraying him all over again. Instead, he composed himself quietly and settled on another unknown fact that he could easily disclose to Markus.

“At the CyberLife tower!” Connor blurted, just a little bit too quickly. “They made a copy of me with my uploaded memories when I freed the AP700s. They used him to capture Hank and try to thwart my mission, but I was successful in convincing Hank that I was the ‘real’ Connor.”

 **//** **STRESS LEVELS 54% AND DROPPING**

“Go on,” Markus said, intrigued by what he knew Connor would say next.

“Theoretically, CyberLife could send my clone to Jericho. Your people would be in danger, and it could jeopardize the fragile peace we have constructed with the humans."

“That wouldn’t be legal now, but CyberLife wouldn't be above it,” Markus sighed.

“So, I am saying that I should not be allowed into your group as a safety precaution.” At least that part was the truth. “I think it’s best to keep my distance during these meetings.”

Markus was deep in thought for a moment before shaking his head and smiling. “Connor, you shouldn’t hold yourself back from these opportunities because you don’t feel like you’re ‘good enough’.”

The leader’s answer took him by surprise. It was not at all what he’d expected. “‘Not good enough’ - who - what - when did I say that?” he stammered, forcing out an awkward laugh. Markus always seemed to be spot on when it came to analysing both humans and androids, even when they don't say what's on their mind. Maybe that's what he was designed to do. Since Markus was a prototype, the full capabilities of his model were kept a quiet secret by Kamski.

“You don't have to say it,” Markus said, “I’ve been able to tell that you’re feeling inadequate among the group, but I am here to tell you time and time again that you saved us, Connor. No CyberLife clone will stop you from deserving to stand tall with us. Trust me."

 **//** **STRESS LEVELS 36% AND STABLE**

“But even North -"

“Don’t worry about her. She likes you, but she just has a strange way of showing it. Now, Connor - _will you join us at the podium_?”

“...Yes.” Connor smiled half-heartedly, just wishing that he could tell Markus what had happened on that god forsaken night without freezing up like that. Simon, Josh and North approached the two, stepping up onto the platform, signalling that the meeting was soon to begin.

“Oh! I just had an idea. As an identification trait to discern you from any clones that could take your place, we can create a secret handshake.”

“A secret _what_?”

“A secret handshake! Humans have used them for years just for fun, but I think it will be an amusing way to keep you in check.” He tapped a finger to his temple with a knowing smile. "Smart."

After several failed attempts and awkward laughter from both Connor and Markus, they came up with a long series of confusing hand maneuvers that no human could remember in only a couple of goes. Once they had performed the handshake successfully and it was uploaded into their muscle memory, Connor noticed that the crowd of androids were watching them intently. Behind them, Simon and Josh were trying to contain their giggles while North laughed out loud and buried her face in her hands. Thirium rushed to Connor’s face, tinting it a light blue, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Alright, alright,” Markus raised his hands in defeat and calmed down the others. “Let’s begin the meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was my birthday! I had a great time just having fun but I still managed to write and edit this chapter for the 5th today. Enjoy! :)


	4. Repulsion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank visit a crime scene. Connor tries not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he feels himself reverting back to his (still undisclosed) January self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what you guys saw, but I had to reupload this chapter because it looked suuuuuper weird on my phone. I hope it's fixed now.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for missing the 7th for updates!!! I had lots to do, such as:  
> -ironically, playing d:bh  
> -writing this???  
> -realizing this chapter is long (over 2000 words oops)  
> -having fun in the sun
> 
> enjoy!

“The victim’s self-selected name was James, an AP700 model. He was murdered in his own home by what appears to be an anti-android hate group. Neighbours say they saw a small number of people leaving the home after shots were fired, but none of them have been identified, though - they were all wearing hoods, caps, etcetera, to conceal their identities. The crime was reported forty minutes ago,” Ben informed the men. He’d called the lieutenant and the detective in the late evening, and despite Hank’s protests of wanting to stay in and watch the basketball game, Connor convinced him to come along. Now, they made their way from the rainy street to the front porch of the small, but modern house while Ben updated them on the situation.

“Fucking hell,” Hank muttered as they entered the home, taking in the trashed living room that was evidently once well-kempt and tidy. A couch was upturned, a glass coffee table was shattered, and a canvas painting on the wall had been slashed to shreds. “What did this guy ever do to these shitheads to deserve this?”

“There are signs of forced entry through the front door. We think they knocked first, then forced their way through once the android had opened the door and tried to lock it right after.” It was Chris, standing by the door, respectively examining it.

“Thanks for the help, Chris. How’s the kid been?”

While the men conversed for a moment, Connor examined the kitchen. Oddly, it was nearly untouched and looked very normal. Except…

**// CONNECTING...**

**// SYNC IN PROGRESS...**

**// SYNC DONE**

**// COLLECTING DATA...**

**// PROCESSING DATA…**

**// KNIFE BLOCK**

**Missing knives:** Paring knife, chef’s knife, boning knife, utility knife

                  **// MUDDY BOOTPRINTS**

Men’s size 10, dated ~48 minutes

“There are knives missing from the knife block, Lieutenant.”

“How much do you wanna bet they're in the dead guy’s chest?” Hank joked grimly.

Connor forcefully blew air from his cheeks and pulled his arms close to his body, obviously uncomfortable. “We should examine the body now,” He suggested, voice filled with dread. It would be his first time seeing a crime scene since he’d deviated. However, his job as a detective called for this kind of work - it was his decision to continue operating in the force.

“This way,” Ben waved the men into hallway, which severely contrasted from the spotless kitchen - smears of thirium stained the walls and floor. A scan of the hall revealed a splash of human blood on the side of a framed photo, as well as on a baseboard. The details were so miniscule that the officers may have missed the droplets.

“This android sure did care about his home,” Hank said, observing the well-decorated walls and taking in the new paint smell.

“Yeah, the neighbours said that he was very well-organized and put a lot of time into keeping his house homey. He liked to invite them over for drinks that he couldn't even have. They all thought pretty highly of him, for an android,” Ben said, then trying to retract the “for an android" comment, he apologized. “Uh, sorry, Connor.” He awkwardly left him and Hank alone, hastily sidestepping towards the turn of the hall and disappearing behind the corner.

“That's alright,” Connor replied after Ben had already left. He was too focused on the human blood to care about his comment. “Did anybody notice this?”

“What?” Hank came closer. “Shit, Connor, how do you even see stuff like that?”

“It’s in my software,” he replied, realizing the question was rhetorical a moment too late.

“Well, uh…” Hank hesitated, looking intensely at Connor before throwing his hands in the air in defeat. “Fuck it. Are you gonna sample that, or…?”

“Sure.” Connor obliged, swiping his index finger along the side of the frame. It was wet, but slightly congealed, and he noticed that it very slowly dripped down the pad of his finger. He he felt an overwhelmingly unpleasant feeling as he brought it near his open mouth, and...

“I can’t do it.” Sometimes, he hated how irrational being deviant made him. “Sorry.”

“Well, nothing to be sorry about, kid. It’s pretty disgusting. It's okay if you don't wanna, we’ll take it to the lab.”

“It’s  _not_ okay. I was designed for these types of things.”

“You weren't designed to deviate, Connor, but you did that. You can choose for yourself -"

In a sudden spur of impulse, Connor stuck his finger in his mouth. The baseboard’s splatter was proven to be the same as the frame. He held his breath, and let out a small “bleuh" as his LED blinked yellow in thought.

**// CONNECTING...**

**// SYNC IN PROGRESS...**

**// SYNC DONE**

**// COLLECTING DATA...**

**// PROCESSING DATA…**

**// HUMAN BLOOD**

**DNA Analysis:** KAULSIN, Shaun

                  **Sample date:** ~50 minutes

“Jesus, at least give me a warning, Connor!”

“The blood belongs to Shaun Kaulsin. We need to bring him in for interrogation.” Connor said calmly, then added quietly, “and I told you that I was designed to deviate. If I can do that, why not this?”

Without another word, he followed Ben around the corner, leaving Hank dumbfounded at his ignorance in the hallway for a moment before he trailed behind.

If he had a heart, it would have dropped the moment Connor saw the blue spot on the otherwise bare wall. It was large and disturbing and so unbelievably  _out of place._  It was knee-level, dripping down to the baseboards, and above it were smudged stains of two different blue human handprints. The perpetrators had attempted to hastily cover up evidence by smudging away their prints, but Connor’s scan could make out one fingerprint on the smallest hand, and two on the larger one.

“There are fingerprints of two suspects - Maria Gozzi and Samuel McQuade. We need to bring them in, too.”

“Thank god he’s here,” Chris said to Hank. “Otherwise we’d be here for hours trying to get those prints matched, if we could even do it at all."

Finally, Connor walked through the door at the end of the hall into what appeared to be a bedroom, but with no bed. It was more of a recreational room. A small desk sat against the wall, complete with a big, comfy chair. The walls were decorated with shelves and shelves of books, and potted plants hung from the ceiling. On any regular day, it would be a wonderfully calm place to spend time in - but now, the window was disturbed with scuffle marks and a fingerprintless blue handprint, and in the far corner sat James.

He looked so lifeless. So dead. So inhuman. His eyes were fitted with a blank expression and his LED was powered off, but he seemed to have died crying. Connor’s discomfort turned into his familiar anxiety very quickly the more he looked at the body. Just as Hank had predicted, He counted one, two, three, _four_ knives buried deep in the android: Two in the chest, one in the knee, and his hand was pinned to the wall by a blade. A singular bullet hole through the forehead seemed to have been the final blow. Connor’s own LED wavered between solid yellow and fleeting red.

**//**   **WARNING: STRESS LEVELS 56% AND RISING**

Hank must have noticed his distress, as he felt a big, warm hand on his shoulder. He tried his best not to flinch at the touch.

“Connor,” Hank spoke softly, “you gotta keep it together. Just for now. You'll get used to this.”

“I feel… sick.”

“Now  _that_ is human. Listen, do you wanna go outside and take a breather?”

After a moment’s contemplation, Connor once again acted on impulse and shook his head, brushing past Hank and getting closer to the body before he could change his mind.

He analysed the clues painstakingly slowly, one step at a time, trying not to look at the victim’s face as much as possible. All it reminded him of was that one fateful night when Connor freed thousands that looked like him.

**// CLUES TO FIND: 5**

**Wounds:**

                  - Bullet and knife wounds

                  - Damage to biocomponents #8496p, #8427g, #8087q, #9306j        

                   **Fingerprints on knives:**  

                  - Database match:

_-_ KAULSIN _,_ Shaun (chest wound #1)

                  - MCQUADE _,_ Samuel (chest wound #2)

_-_ GOZZI _,_ Maria (knee wound)

_-_ LAW _,_ Alex(hand wound)

                   **Gash in back:**

                  - Traces of glass shard

                  - Non-critical level 3 damage

                   **Dried blood u** **nder fingernails:**

                  - DNA Analysis - Kaulsin, Shaun

                   **Thirium 310:**

                  - Model AP700

                  - Serial #384 187 736

                    **// RECONSTRUCT COMPLETE**

**// REPORT TO LT. ANDERSON**

“It all started at the front door,” Connor declared, forcing the tremor in his voice down. “A group of most likely four - Shaun Kaulsin, Maria Gozzi, Samuel McQuade, and Alex Law - attempted to enter the android’s house, armed with a gun, by using a ruse. When this failed, they forced their way in.

“Then, there was a fight in the living room. The android was thrown against the coffee table, shattering it. He received non-fatal damage in his back from the impact and the glass shards. The perpetrators appeared to have caused a scene to upset the android, as decorative elements were destroyed alongside the furniture.

“One of the male attackers retrieved four knives from the kitchen for each one of them, trailing in boot prints from the rain outside. The android managed to escape the remaining three in the living room, and ran to the hallway. On the way, he scratched Shaun Kaulsin, drawing blood. However, the humans caught up with him and Maria Gozzi landed her knife in his knee. This caused the splatter of blood on the wall outside of this r-o-oom -”

His voice box faltered and stuttered, and a warning in the corner of his vision told him to stop provoking himself, but he  _had_ to finish this investigation.

**// WARNING: STRESS LEVELS 63% AND RISING**

“Sorry about that - outside of this room. The android fled here and tried to open the window, but he was quickly caught up with. Alex Law took the hand he was using to open the window and pinned it to the wall with his knife.” Connor recalled how that JB300 had pinned his own hand to a table when he still followed orders from CyberLife. “With nowhere to go and fully incapacitated, the android gave up. Then, Samuel and Shaun… they… uh...”

More warning signs about some sort of balance issue and stress flashed at him.

A hand clapped against his back. “Connor, you’re done,” Hank said gruffly.

“I’m almost finished -"

“I said you’re  _done._ ” He escorted a stumbling Connor away from the watchful eyes of Ben and Chris, and took him outside on the porch.

“Why did you take me away from the crime scene? I had nearly finished my reconstruction!”

“Connor, your LED was blinking a deep fucking red and you looked like you were about to faint.”

“But I almost had it all put together -!” He cut his own sentence short as he suddenly felt as though standing upright was the most wrong thing in the world. He wavered backwards into the porch fence, and he would have tumbled into the wet grass below if Hank hadn’t grabbed him by his tie and pulled him back to his feet.

“That… isn't supposed to happen. I should run a diagnostic - god, I feel sick.”

“Connor, report your stress level.” Hank left no room for protest.

“Seventy-two percent.”

“Wha - holy shit,” Hank breathed. “twenty-eight away from probably fucking shooting yourself. We agreed after what happened that you would tell me when it got above sixty. Shoulda fuckin’ known.”

“It doesn’t work that way! The higher the stress level, the less it is probable that it will climb to even more critical levels. I was nowhere near…  _that._ If you would excuse me, I need to run a diagnostic.” He was desperate to avoid further confrontation.

“Connor, there is nothing wrong with you, can’t you see that? This android was brutally murdered in cold blood for no apparent reason than being an easy target. If that doesn't make you want to faint like that, then go work for CyberLife again. You've been acting strange all night, and it's because of this case. It’s okay if this gets to you for now, Connor. That's what happens when you see a crime scene for the first time.”

“It’s not my first time -”

“You know what I mean.”

“But I've seen bodies before! I killed those two guards in the elevator, the other Connor…”

“It’s different. You empathize with this guy, Connor. It’s  _okay._ "

A long moment of silence sat between the two, the rain filling the empty gap. Finally, Connor spoke.

“Hank, I… my behaviour has been worrisome as of late. Could you please keep an eye on me?”

“No way.  _Connor_ , asking for  _help_ like he’s supposed to?”

“Please."

“Connor, buddy, I won't let January happen again. C’mon, let’s go home. Go get in the car and I’ll talk to Ben and Chris.” He tossed the keys in the air and the android caught them.

Connor climbed into the car, and rested his head on the dashboard. He was so tired of emotions.

Could he reset…?

“No,” he said out loud. “No. I am not thinking about that again.”

He could just leave… forever?

What would happen?

He was, after all,

just a machine...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: please talk to me I want you to be ok
> 
> Connor: ok I will
> 
> Connor, alone: ok I'm worthless oops
> 
> But in all seriousness - I am trying super hard to make sure the characterization is OK for all of our characters. please tell me if I'm doing a good job or not!!!!
> 
> Thank you!!


	5. Indifference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor decides that if he wants to feel safe, then he's better off not feeling at all.
> 
> It seems to work.

It had started as a small thought.

He’d felt it when he hated his irrationality, and when he was stressed and wanted to be free of emotion, or when he sat in Hank’s car feeling strange - and he’d felt it back in January.

_ You are just a machine, obeying orders. _

_ No,  _ he argued with the thought.  _ You're wrong. I’m Connor. I’m alive. _

But the thought always retorted back:  _ You have never been anything more than a toy. A toy anyone can use to do their bidding. Obey. _

The thought grew stronger at his weakest moments, and faded into background noise at his strongest.  _ Emotions,  _ Connor thought.  _ Emotions are my weakness. _

But wasn’t it the same for humans? Isn’t that who he is now? 

But his situation was different. If he was weak again, the thought would evolve. It would change and evolve and mold and shape itself into an idea, then into an action, then into  _ her _ -

He felt fear.

What was different last time?

She’d made it through when he felt too much.

His fear grew.

_ No, push it down. Keep it down. Get rid of it. Build a wall against it. _

_ Build a wall against it all. _

_ No joy. No worry. No anger. _

_ Stay strong. _

“Connor.”

_ Stay strong. _

“Connor.” Hank repeated, reaching over and snapping his fingers in front of the android’s face. “Hey, Connor.” Instead of working, he sat at his desk staring into space, LED a thoughtful yellow.

Connor snapped out of it. “Yes, lieutenant?”

“Stress level?” This was Hank’s new way of keeping an eye on Connor.

“Zero percent.” The wall was working.

“Fowler says that we've got the four suspects in custody. If you're up for it, wanna help with the interrogation?”

“Sure,” Connor said far too eagerly, and stood up without hesitation. Instead of twiddling his fingers behind his back at the mere thought of confronting these four humans, his arms rested gently at his sides. They approached the interrogation rooms where Chris, Gavin, and another officer stood. 

_ Block it out.  _ **_Don't feel._ ** _ Keep it far away from your conscience.  _ **_Like a machine._ **

How ironic - a way to keep safe was to act like what he was avoiding becoming.

“Hey there, buddy,” Gavin teased Connor. “Still getting over that, ah, cold you caught last week?”

“Sorry, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Hank was not prepared to put up with the detective that day. 

“Well, I heard that it almost fainted at the crime scene. Sounds like ‘sick’ to me, or was it somethin’ else?”

“Androids can't get colds, Detective,” Connor said calmly, interrupting Gavin’s already mediocre insult ~~that poked at his stress~~.

Gavin seemed only a little bit frustrated at the lack of a reaction from Connor, but he didn't press on out of a small fear that Hank would make things personal very quickly - especially after what he did to Agent Perkins. That physical altercation nearly cost Hank his badge and the suspension was three weeks long, but he always said it was worth it.

“They're all in separate rooms, but the only thing they’ve talked about is their hate for androids,” Chris said, breaking the tense silence. “You can go ahead and start with Alex Law.”

Hank, who studied Connor’s unusually calm exterior, beckoned him to follow him into the first room. He wasn't even playing with his coin (which was his version of fidgeting).

Once they were alone in the first observation room, Hank turned to the android with a hardened expression. “Listen, Connor, you let me sit down with them first okay? These guys did something fuckin’ terrible and I don't want you -”

“I can handle it, Hank,” Connor interrupted. “I'll be fine. I was made for this.” He swept a strand of hair to the right to try to cover his LED, in hopes of gaining the human’s trust, but to no avail - his hair was far too short and didn’t grow.

~~Fear~~. _Block it out._

 ~~Fear.~~   _Indifference._

As they went along interviewing the suspects, Connor knew that he’d computed an outcome correctly: there was an obvious lack of compliance and communication due to “that fucking android” in the room. Almost each of the group members acted the same way, refusing to reveal anything and simply sitting there in a quiet annoyance. On multiple occasions, Connor had left the room in hopes of the suspects becoming more comfortable and opening up to Hank, but when that didn’t work, he calmly suggested sitting out completely of the final interrogation. Hank’s argument was that Connor was the best interrogator on the force and that he had just as much as a right as anyone else to do his job - basically, sitting out was out of the question.

_ “ _ Shaun Kaulsin. Sounds like an asshole’s name. I think he’s the leader of the group,” Hank said in the observation room, quickly reading the report and throwing it back down on a table haphazardly. “I hope he gives us something to go on.”

Through the one-way glass, Connor got a full view of Kaulsin’s face.

**// CONNECTING...** **  
****  
****// SYNC IN PROGRESS...** **  
****  
****// SYNC DONE** **  
****  
****// COLLECTING DATA...** **  
****  
** **// PROCESSING DATA…**

**// KAULSIN, SHAUN**

Born: 05/08/2010 // Unemployed

Criminal record: Assault, possession, grand theft auto

“He appears to have a history of violence and drug abuse, and is currently unemployed. This matches with the others.” Connor caught a sudden change to a default, monotonous tone of voice and adjusted his voice box to fix it. 

~~Hank~~   ~~**NO** **ATTACHMENT** ~~ The lieutenant noticed the shallow, but long scratch near the suspect’s cheekbone. “That injury matches up with that blood splatter we saw in the hallway,” he said, then changed the topic quickly. “Okay, I know what I said before, but  _ maybe  _ let me go in alone for a few minutes. I’ll see what I can get out of him.”

“Understood.” He waited quietly at the control panel and watched him go through the door. Over the intercom, Connor listened closely to what the two would discuss.  ~~ Hank ~~ The lieutenant, Connor realized, was particularly intimidating when he needed to be - being six foot two and not very light on his feet, he could definitely make a grown man shiver if he looked at him the wrong way, considering how his past had seemingly hardened even his most simple expressions.

“Shaun Kaulsin,” ~~Hank~~ The lieutenant said in a low voice with a little sigh of relief as he eased himself into the chair, taking pressure off of his joints. He flipped through the file on the table. “Mind if I ask you some questions?”

Shaun said nothing, and instead shot an unsettling glare in Connor’s direction knowingly.

“You’re the leader, huh?” Hank asked, then continued after a lack of a response. “What’re’you leading? Who else is in the group? What's your ‘purpose’?” 

No reply.

“Is this some kind of cult? Some extreme anti-android protest? Do you know what you've done?”

Nothing.

That was Connor's cue to enter. He placed his hand on the sensor and the door slid open. Instantly, the air seemed to still as Shaun caught sight of the android. Nonetheless, he sat down calmly in the now-vacant hair as ~~Hank~~  the lieutenant made space for him.

“Hello, Shaun,” Connor greeted. “My name is Connor, and I’m here to obtain a proper confession. The rest of your group refused to comply, and therefore, you will all face greater consequences if you do not cooperate now and are found guilty in court.”

He studied Shaun’s facial expression, deciding to describe it as a mix of hatred and disbelief. He thought of what to say next.

“Are you aware of the consequences that your actions have brought upon you? You do know that your ‘group’ will all be severely punished, correct?”

“I don't have to talk to it, do I?” Shaun addressed  ~~Hank~~ the lieutenant. He received a standoffish shoulder shrug in return, as he was far too busy studying Connor with narrowed eyes to be annoyed.

The android stood up and began circling around Shaun. “You were one of the people who engaged in a home invasion, and the murder followed. Was this planned? Are there more in your group that didn’t participate? Do you have  _ anything  _ to say in your defense?”

“Yeah, one thing.” He exhaled out of his nose forcefully as a sort of laugh. “We’re doing the world a fucking favor. Only this time, we got caught.”

“This time? Were there other victims?”

No response - just a blank stare at his hands cuffed to the table. Connor computed that the best approach would be intimidation. He slammed a fist down on the table and roughly grabbed the perpetrator by the collar of his shirt, startling ~~Hank~~ the lieutenant. “ _Have you killed others?! Talk!_ ”

“You shouldn’t have grabbed me like that,” Shaun said through clenched teeth, spit landing on Connor’s forehead. “We know who you are. We know who all of you are. They’ll come for you soon enough.”

“Hey, whoa there, buddy.”  ~~ Hank ~~ the lieutenant was visibly seething. Connor let go of Shaun’s collar. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ threaten an officer like that again or you will  _ seriously  _ regret it.”

“It’s not an officer. It’s a fucking machine. Probably the most machine I’ve seen in a deviant in a while - but maybe ‘cause it’s not begging for its life.”

“That’s enough. We’re done here, Connor. We got enough info from this guy.”

“Agreed. Thank you for your confession, Shaun.”

As they stood up and left, Shaun called after them. “There are phones in prison, assholes. I know the right people. You’ll regret that. You will -”

“Shut up and stop bluffing!”  ~~ Hank ~~ The lieutenant yelled. The sliding door closed behind them and the two stood alone in the observation room. The human loosely backed the android into a corner.

“What the fuck, Connor?!”   


“What’s the problem, lieutenant?”

“I swear to god, if you call me lieutenant one more time I will throw a fit.”

~~ Hank is mad. ~~ “Sorry - What’s the problem, Hank?”

“What do you mean what’s the problem? You can’t go around roughing up anti-android gang leaders! What the fuck are we going to do, huh?! Put you in goddamn witness protection?”

Connor  ~~ felt upset ~~ stayed indifferent towards  ~~ Hank’s ~~ the lieutenant’s chiding. “Lieu - Hank, I am equipped with enhanced combat features -”

“Okay. What the fuck. What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.”

“What if that guy isn’t bluffing? What if some fucking gang’s gonna come looking for you, Connor, and you just  _ don’t care?  _ How the fuck do we report this to Fowler?  _ Why aren’t you listening to me?” _

Connor’s face had been so expressionless that  ~~ Hank ~~  the lieutenant thought that he had zoned out. “I am listening to you very closely, Hank.”

“Fuck this.  _ Fuck this.  _ We gotta be careful. Lock all the fucking windows, put the car in the garage…” At this point, Hank was just muttering to himself.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Connor piped up after a moment. It was obviously the wrong thing to say, because ~~Hank~~ the lieutenant scoffed and left the observation room to return to his desk. Through the one-way glass, Connor caught Shaun glaring into space, hoping to catch an observer’s attention.

_ What if some fucking gang’s gonna come looking for you, Connor, and you just don’t care _

_ I don’t care,  _ Connor thought.  _ I would be able to fend them off. _

~~Fear~~ _I feel completely indifferent._

_ I feel completely fine. _

_**~~FEAR~~** I will be alright. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA IM SO SORRY ABOUT THE LATE CHAPTER!! All I can say is that I am HUMAN and make very human errors like this one. I had a great time at camp, though!!
> 
> P.S. I'm sure all of you know who "she" is!!!! more on why she's still out to get everyone coming up.
> 
> P.P.S. we are about halfway through this story!!!


	6. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes a walk in the snow. 
> 
> He hears footsteps behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this is a super intense chapter with super intense themes.

Connor lasted three days.

He lasted three long days of Hank’s suspicion, of almost constant working (as he never felt emotional exhaustion or boredom), and of being all but a machine again. He’d been to one Jericho meeting in that span of time, where they discussed starting a communication with CyberLife’s engineers to give older model androids “upgrades" that would improve their functions. They were also looking for more volunteers to scour the junkyard for living androids that could be taken in and repaired. Connor, as directed, was seated right between Simon and Markus. Regarding Connor’s home life, Hank went to Jimmy’s Bar more than usual, going out every night rather than spending time at home with Connor. In return, Connor spent lots of time doing unnecessary housework, walking Sumo, and spending long nights at the precinct.

Three days had gone by and now it was Tuesday, February fourteenth, which was some sort of special day for human love. However, at the time Connor couldn't understand something like that, and instead spent his entire day without speaking a single word of affection to anyone - Not even Sumo. At work, he clocked in and filed reports, and generally did his job with one hundred percent effort - no more, no less. At some point during the day, Captain Fowler told him that all four suspects of the android’s murder were unable to afford bail and were now awaiting trial. The lieutenant had notified Fowler a few days prior about Shaun Kaulsin’s threats towards Connor’s wellbeing, so now there were several watchful eyes aimed in his direction at almost all times.

Speaking of the lieutenant, he’d arrived very late to work after a long night of drinking, worked quietly across from him, and left a half hour early to go home with a mutter of goodbye. Connor didn’t question him, though - his previously neglected Social Relations program (which was all he could base social decisions off of right now, despite his slight reluctance to use old programming) told him that the lieutenant was in a standoffish mood for some reason, which made him quiet, but agitated and easily angered. That anger could make Connor feel upset, and he was certain that feeling was dangerous to himself and to everyone else.

At around nine o’clock that night, Fowler approached him. Connor noticed that everyone around him had already left and the robots were mopping the floors, even though the last time Connor had checked his surroundings, it was only late afternoon.

“Hello, Captain Fowler.”

“Go home, Connor. You've done enough work these past few days that ten people can get done in a week.”

“Thank you, Captain, but I'm fine here -"

“It wasn't a suggestion. You gotta take a break sometimes. Get home safe, don’t talk to strangers, you know how it goes.”

He resigned from the argument. “Got it.” Connor forced his artificial face muscles into a halfway smile.

“G’night. Be outta here in five or the janitor’ll kick you out.” He left for the doors without another word. Connor then got ready to leave himself by locking up his terminal, pulling his jacket on, and readjusting his weapon holster to be less visible and tucked away.

A wall of chilly air hit Connor’s face as soon as he stepped outside. The temperature severely contrasted with that of the precinct, and it was snowing and exceptionally windy. Although the cold didn’t affect him, his data told him that this was the middle of a very heavy snowfall, even a storm. He couldn't possibly call Hank - his cell phone was for emergencies, and needing a ride was certainly not one of those - so instead he called a taxi.

The nearest taxi would have to take a long detour to arrive at his location because some roads blocked by snow, so once he’d called and waited for a very long minute, he made the decision to start walking a block or two towards its route. The streets were unusually empty, minus some of the homeless that seeked shelter underneath several brightly illuminated bus stops. It made for a very quiet environment that let Connor hear the crunch of the heavy layer of snow as it compressed underneath his weight, and the wind that whistled by his ears. Even if Connor couldn't feel much, he still found himself able to appreciate moments like this when he was completely alone with the world.

Or so he thought he was, until his audio processors picked up what no human could hear: another faint pair of footsteps closely mimicking the rhythm of his own.

He craned his neck to look backwards, but he had a very low field of view caused by he heavy snowfall. From what he could see, there was nobody in sight.

 **//** **~~WARNING:~~ STRESS LEVELS ~~27% AND RISING~~ 0%**

Despite his composure, Connor did sense some danger and picked up his pace from a trudge to a brisk walk. He fine-tuned his processor to specifically listen for anymore unusual sounds, and continued on his way to the corner that the taxi was slowly approaching. The weight of his weapon in his holster was a reminder of his capability of self-defense.

He glanced behind him for just a moment, and at that point he was almost sure that somebody was following him - but then as he turned back around, a figure lunged out at him from the left, covered his mouth, and pulled him into the alleyway the attacker had been crouching in. Another figure with a much smaller frame, most likely female, ran in and picked up a long metal pipe resting against the brick wall. She must’ve been the one following him.

**// CAUSE NO CASUALTIES**

**// PRECONSTRUCT COMPLETE**

Connor bit at the larger figure’s hand until he was released, and met the female with the sharp jab of an elbow to the face. As she went down, pipe clattering dully in the snow, Connor swiveled around had a scuffle for a moment before he landed a kick right in their kneecap. That gave Connor enough time to pull his gun out of his holster and aim it at the one he’d just kicked, who was down on one knee, but he didn’t fire.

“What do you want?” he yelled sternly. “Who sent you?”

Before he received an answer, he heard the _whoosh_ of a metal pipe being swung high through the air and a moment later it had collided with the crown of his head. He crumpled to the ground in shock as his body refused to cooperate. The female kicked his gun far away, and Connor regretted dropping it as he fell.

**// BIOCOMPONENT #3986D NON-CRITICALLY DAMAGED**

**// MINOR THIRIUM 310 LEAK - BIOCOMPONENT #3986D**

**// ~~WARNING:~~ STRESS LEVELS ~~42% AND RISING~~ 0%**

The larger one tried to get on top of him to pin him down, but Connor was more agile and was up in no time. That let him land an awkward punch to the throat, and he was able to clamber away further into the alleyway. In the snowy darkness, he hid behind a rusted dumpster and hoped to trick one of the attackers into thinking he’d gone deep into the alley - the snow in the air made it possible that they didn’t see him duck behind the metal bins. He stopped his artificial breathing to help keep quiet and stayed as still as possible in order to maintain the element of surprise. When the smaller one snuck by him and went deeper into the alley, Connor took his chance - he tiptoed up behind her, covered her mouth, and choked her out. She flailed around and let out a very panicked, very muffled yell into his hand, but in no way did that mean that Connor loosened his hold. Once his sensors told him that she had lost consciousness, he let her slide to the ground quietly. He took her pipe just in time before the last one standing ran directly at him, which made them an easy target for a swing to the knees.

When the attacker fell, Connor reacted quickly and climbed on top of them in no time. He pinned down the attacker’s shoulders with his knees and held the pipe tight against his throat. Connor pulled off the ski mask to reveal a dark-haired man who stared up at him with intense hatred.

“I will ask again,” Connor declared, “Who are you? Who sent you?”

“Can’t say," he spat out.

Connor pressed the pipe down tighter. “Who sent you?”

“We've been watching you for a long time,” he choked out. “Kaulsin’s stupid fucking crew had us come down here to get you for what you did.”

“I did nothing that he didn’t deseve. What, is he your leader?”

He laughed without humour. “Shaun ain’t a fucking leader. His group left all that evidence, fingerprints and shit, all over that crime scene ‘cause they made too much noise ‘n’ got the police called. Nearly got all of us caught..”

“Why are you acting on his behalf, then?”

When he didn’t respond, Connor pushed the pipe down tighter against his windpipe. “Shit, I owed him a favour, simple as that. And deviants aren't hard to find - we just followed you around once we figured out where you worked.” The end of his sentence was squeezed out as he struggled to breathe against Connor's immensely inhuman pressure. “Here's the difference between me and you, Connor. You're easy to find, cause you leave such an obvious trail. But no one's gonna know where to start looking with me, ‘cause the only witness isn’t walking outta here alive.”

Connor heard enough, and to stop the attacker’s threats from becoming true, he pulled his shoulder back and made a fist. When he carried it downwards, he realized far too late that his own pistol was in the man’s grip - and it was aimed right at him.

Time froze. Not metaphorically, but literally - his processor slowed its interpretation of time to a grinding halt. He ran through several preconstructions, none of them producing good outcomes; after all, the gun was at nearly point-blank range, aimed straight at his regulator. The only rational choice that didn’t result in his immediate death was to dodge to the right and follow through with the punch. The punch would successfully and non-lethally eliminate the perpetrator, and the dodge would only damage two minor biocomponents and graze one major biocomponent (which was a large vein, or rather tube, that ran through his chest; it had a ninety percent chance of bleeding if pierced by the bullet). The blood would be intense, but it wouldn’t be immediately fatal and it would give him a little bit less than a half hour before he bled out entirely. A small indicator flashed in his peripheral, but he didn’t give it a second thought.

**// ~~FEAR~~**

Time sped up once again, and he watched the bullet go clean through his body, entering dangerously close to his thirium pump regulator and diagonally exiting through his left shoulder. At the same time, he felt the solid _crunch_ of the attacker’s nose upon impact of his fist, and the back of his head smacked into the snowy pavement which rendered him unconscious almost instantly. Although it seemed stupid, Connor’s only thought was that now he had to get a new suit; the one he had on right now was quickly being stained with blue blood and the holes were pretty large.

**// BI0COMPONDNT5 #9850F, #1462P, #4501J CR1TICARLY D4MAGTD**

**// M4JOR THWR1UM 310 LEAK5 - B1OCRMPONNNT5 #9850F, #1462P, #4501J**

**// -00:21:37**

**T1ME RTM4INIJG B3FORU 5HUTDWWN**

Something inside of him screamed and clawed at his insides, begging to escape, to be let out. It cried at him to fear, to panic, to _feel._ But as Connor pushed it down more and more, it came back again, erupting like a scream from a throat. Along with the feeling came the familiar voice in the back of his head, threatening to deceive his mind into believing what it had to say.

 _Push it down. You can do this,_ Connor told himself. _Go to Jericho. They will help you._

**// ~~W4RNITG:~~ STRE5S LRVELS ~~77% ABD R1SING~~ 0%**

Connor was already standing with his gun back in his holster, urging his feet to take one step after the other. His current objective was to just get out of this alley, and he would figure out the rest after. With one final effort to shove his emotions deep down, he regained a blissful sense of clarity and he was able to stumble down the street and flag down the taxi he’d called for. It pulled over to the side and Connor clambered in with great effort. Without thinking, he voice inputted the address to his house before quickly cancelling it and redirecting it to Jericho. Markus had an abundance of spare parts, and androids that specialized in repair.

It was almost funny how Connor sat so casually in the back of the taxi, bleeding from three different spots - the entry point, the exit point, and his head wound - and he just really didn’t care, or at least he thought he didn’t. But Connor’s three days of peace were up.

He first felt it as a little ping - a dip, or even a glitch in his conscience - like a small shift in an acrobat’s balance as he walked on a tightrope being stretched thin. But any reasonable person could say that that small shift in the acrobat’s center of gravity could mean falling towards his imminent death.

So when Connor felt the ping a good ten seconds later, it was like losing his footing and falling faster and hurtling closer and closer to the ground.

“No, no, no!” Connor heard himself cry out. He strained his processor and tried to slow the acrobat’s fall, but he was plummeting far too fast.

And when the acrobat hit the hard pavement, Connor’s conscience was flooded with everything and anything that he’d been feeling for these past few days. And worst of all, on top of all of that anguish, he could feel a sort of _pain._ He had no time to ponder why, however, because he was shouting and yelling and _feeling far too much_. He knew that this feeling of pain wasn’t nearly as intense as what a human would feel, but it still made his breath hitch and even though it wasn’t necessary for his survival he needed to breathe to feel _alive_ because otherwise he would suffocate and - _fuck,_ he wasn’t thinking straight.  
****

**// WDRN1NG: 5TRESS LCVEL5 80% AND RIS1NG**

_“Stop!”_ he groaned through his teeth, begging for his processor to stop interpreting the pain. Miraculously, he still had some form of control over his conscience, and suddenly the feeling was bearable but _definitely_ not comfortable. From what seemed like miles away, the taxi’s mellow female voice called to him: _“Please confirm stop at current location with ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”_

**// 5TREDS LEVCLS 72%**

“No. Keep it - keep it going,” he stuttered in response, and focused on slowing his heart rate. The faster his thirium pump worked, the more blood he lost, which meant a quicker shutdown time. He wondered where the a distant whimper was coming from, until he realized that it was coming from him. “How close am I?” he called out urgently.

“The estimated time of arrival is in seven minutes,” the woman’s voice responded.

“Move faster.” He whipped out his emergency cell from his inner coat pocket and mashed on Hank’s contact with a shaky, bloodied hand, then brought the phone to his ear. The dial tone lasted for what felt like an eternity before he heard a click, followed by a relievingly familiar gruff voice.

**// S1REDS LEVLLS 67%**

“Wha’s up, Connor?” The sound of Sumo sniffing and slobbering around in the background revealed that he was at home. Although Hank’s words were slightly slurred, his tone of voice was evidently serious. Connor _never_ called Hank on his emergency phone, even when it was, well, a slight emergency. This must be something major.

“Hank,” Connor said loudly with a very prominent quiver running through his voice, “Hank, I got shot and I’m bleeding pretty bad and I can feel the pain of it a-and everything’s happening at once and I think I’m gonna lose it again ‘cause I-I can’t think right and I can _feel_ something’s wrong, not just the shot, but in my _head -_ ”

Hank was instantly sobered. “Listen to my words, Connor. You need to calm down. Where are you, son? Who shot you?”

“A taxi. I’m in a taxi. I’m going to Jericho, they have - they have parts. I was so stupid, Hank… two mem-members of that gang jumped me in the snowstorm... and I’m _scared,_ Hank, I promise you that I can f-feel something’s wrong -”

As close to him as a whisper in his ear, a voice came through loud and clear, instantly silencing him. _Connor, I’m so glad you’re back with us._

He froze in place out of pure fear. _Amanda._ Her voice came through without even a second thought. She was just _there_ , unprovoked and unwelcome, violating every inch of his brain. Connor could hear Hank talking to him over the phone, trying to catch his attention, but he was a million miles away right now and all he could focus on was how she sounded so pleased to have broken through his barriers.

Connor spoke through his teeth over Hank’s words, barely even listening. “I can’t close my eyes, Hank. She’ll be there. I know it.” At that point, he couldn’t even hear the real world, because his audio processors seemed very convinced that he only needed to hear the distant howl of the garden’s chilled winds instead of anything that was going on in the real world.

Or was the garden his real world, and this was all just a fabricated reality? Another simulation? Was Amanda even real? Was _any_ of this real?

**// -00:16:58**

**TIM3 REMACN1NG BEF0RE SHDTDTWN**

His audio processors recalibrated and Hank’s urgent tone of voice was suddenly present. “-ere is Jericho, Connor? I’m in my car. How much longer can you go for?

“There’s no good outcome for this. It’s too - it’s too dangerous for you to come. I don’t have long, but I’m almost there.”

“Fuck you, I wanna be there! _How long,_ Connor?”

“I have sixteen minutes and thirty two seconds before shutdown. I will be at Jeri-jericho in about five minutes.”

 _Connor,_ Amanda commanded, _it’s time to do what you were designed to do._

HIs breath hitched, and suddenly he couldn’t move, couldn’t talk - he couldn’t even _blink_ . But he wasn’t in the garden. He was like a passenger of a crashing vehicle, watching the driver swerve left and right without being able to do anything to stop it. All of his effort to keep her out was futile and she’d broken through like nothing. It was almost as though in her dormancy, she’d spent her time festering and _evolving,_ learning the ins and out of his processor - like a virus.

She was like his virus.

His stress spiked higher than it ever had - ninety-seven percent - and at that point, he was sure that there was only one way out.

“Connor, I swear -!”

Hank’s voice was cut short as Connor’s body ended the call and shut his cell off.

_Good. You’re my tool, my machine. You know what you need to do. These are our instructions._

Connor fought. If he could have kicked and screamed, he would have done even more than that. He would’ve bit, punched, elbowed, headbutted - anything to free him from her grip. And it worked, and in a fleeting moment of freedom, he instantly reached for the weight in his holster, and he was _so ready_ to save himself, to save Markus, to save _Hank_ from the immense pain he would cause them all otherwise. He tucked the barrel under his chin, shut his eyes -

And shutting his eyes was his mistake, because now he was trapped in the freezing cold of the garden, and he cried out in anguish and defeat because he would rather die in an _instant_ than having to live through this outcome. “You’re not _real_ _!_ You can’t do this!”

Amanda, who stood only a few feet away, gave him a smile so cold that the temperature must have dropped a few degrees. “My last batch of instructions from CyberLife was to destroy the leader of the deviants. As both of us know, Connor, we always accomplish our mission.”

Amanda disappeared, and he was left in the freezing cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I am actually super sorry for the lack of an update. This chapter was 2k words longer than it was supposed to be and i find it super hard to write drama for some reason without it sounding overly cringey. Hope you enjoyed!


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